


Stay at Home Devil

by GlitterSkullFairy



Series: Prompts for Smiles [5]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Coronavirus, Domestic Devil, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, LuciferLockDown, PromptSmiles, SO MUCH FLUFF, social distancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23767537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterSkullFairy/pseuds/GlitterSkullFairy
Summary: The Virus has lots of people stuck at home, but while her parents are both out at work, the only person left to help with her homework is...  the Devil.Who turns out to be rather good at it, actually.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Moningstar
Series: Prompts for Smiles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831924
Comments: 49
Kudos: 380
Collections: Prompts for Smiles





	Stay at Home Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FluffyGlitterPantsDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyGlitterPantsDragon/gifts).
  * Inspired by [twitter quarantine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621008) by [doctormissy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy). 



> Part of NotOneLine's Prompts for Smiles project which you can find here:  
> https://twitter.com/NotOneLineFF/status/1241071297930690563
> 
> The prompt "Lucifer helps Trixie with her homework" was suggested by my lovely FluffyGlitterPantsDragon, but it wasn't until I read DoctorMissy's "Twitter Quarantine" that I knew what to do with it. 
> 
> Finally, special thanks to NYC_Utopia for helping me with my French. I got the basics, but it needed some polishing.

Trixie groaned. “I’m bored. Can’t we go to your place?”

Lucifer inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth. He sat across the table from her, with coloured pencils and papers strewn around. He’d let her start the day with artwork, but after half a dozen renditions of him with horns and wings, he said they needed to get on with homework. “No. You have to stay at home. Protect yourself, protect others.”

“Mom and Dad get to go to work.”

“That’s because they’re busy keeping people safe. But I expect they’re bored too because I’m not there to keep them entertained.”

“Why aren’t you? At work?”

“Because it’s not actually my job. I’m technically a volunteer. Besides, someone has to stay here and keep you out of trouble. So. Let's finish off your school work and then we can find something fun to do. What have we got?"

She ruffled through the pages Chloe had printed out from the teacher's email. "Math. English. French. Do we have to do it all at once?"

“We can take breaks if you want. I’m quite happy to resort to bribery if it gets things done and keeps everyone happy.”

“Can I do your hair and make-up?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of chocolate cake.”

“Pfft. I can get cake from Dad whenever I want. I want something that’s going to cost you.”

“The price of your compliance is my dignity?”

Trixie leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Think how happy and grateful Mom will be if she comes home and finds I’ve done _all_ my work.”

“You’re a very devious child. I respect that. Very well. But I reserve the right to take it all off before she gets home. And no photos.”

“I think we have a deal.”

“So. Maths. What are we looking at? Please tell me it’s not long division, that stuff’s boring and useless.”

She found the appropriate page. “Nope. Roman numerals. Ugh. Those things make no sense.”

“They’re much easier than what you have nowadays. You’ve got ten digits to remember, these only have seven.”

“But they’re not even numbers! They’re letters. It’s silly.”

“It’s systematic. Look. Each I is a finger. One, two, three, four, five.” He held up his hand, and tapped each finger as he counted. “Each V is a hand. Two hands is an X. Show me six fingers.”

She held them up.

“V I. Easy. Now if I lend you ten, you make twelve. And seventeen. You see that many fingers, you don’t have to count them, your brain just recognises the patterns. You can learn to do the same with Roman numerals. But this is the fun part. You’re only allowed to put three of any of symbol together at once. So,” he grabbed some spare paper and a pencil and began writing. “One, two, three. Instead of four I’s for four, we put an I before the V. It’s saying ‘one before five.’ Then six is one after five, and so on. What do you think we do for nine?”

“It can’t be V with four I’s because that breaks the rule. I before X?”

“Clever girl. Not you’re getting it.” He wrote down a selection of Roman numbers and asked her what they were. She got most straight away, but had to think a second for some of the longer ones. Then he said the numbers and got her to write them down. It was going well until he got to forty-two.

“Wait, I can’t do four X’s. What comes next?”

“L. For fifty. And then C for one hundred.”

“So forty-two would be X L I I?”

“See? I told you it was easy.”

“It’s cool, it’s like a code. How come you know all this?”

“I used them for centuries. Sometimes people would get creative and write them their own way for fun. The eighteenth legion wrote their number as XIIX. Gave them a sense of identity.”

“I keep forgetting you’re super old.”

“Oi! Not old, immortal. Which is spelt with two m’s, in case you’re wondering. I know your mother struggled with that one. You think you can tackle that worksheet now?”

“I think so.” 

“Good, because I need a drink.”

“Mom said no booze while you’re babysitting.”

Lucifer heaved a sigh. “And you’d probably tell her, wouldn’t you?”

“Or I could get her to ask you.”

“You truly are a devious thing,” he complained, but the smile playing at the corners of his mouth showed that he was impressed. “Okay, I’ll make myself a coffee.”

By the time he came back, she was half-way done. He scrolled through Twitter while he waited. He smiled at a few of Maze’s posts. The demon really was not afraid to tell people when they were being idiots, and educate them on the finer points of how plagues worked.

"Done!" She announced and waved the paper in the air triumphantly.

Lucifer plucked it from her hand and checked it over with a quick glance. "Prefect. Well that was easy enough. What shall we tackle next?"

"Now I get a break."

"You've not even been working for half an hour!"

"I'm a kid, I have a short attention span."

"Fine. Even though I've seen you spend far longer on those odd games with the people with strangely oversized heads."

"They're cute. And I talk to my friends."

"Je parle à mes amies."

"What?"

"French. Next subject."

"What about my break?"

"What about getting on with it so we can do something more fun at the end?"

"You're gonna look so pretty," she sighed.

"Je suis déjà joli. Maintenant. Allons-y."

"What does that mean?"

"Do you know any French at all?"

"We just started learning. Je m'appelle Trixie. J'ai onze ans et demi."

"Bloody Hell this is going to be painful. Can you at least try and sound French?"

"I have a list of vocab to learn. Just basic school stuff." 

"How are you supposed to learn French if they keep putting in English words in between? You'll never be fluent if you keep having to translate into English in your head. Get one of everything on that list and bring it here."

"Why?"

"So I can teach you properly."

She stared at him.

"Vite ! Allons-y !"

It didn't take long to gather the supplies. She already had a pencil, eraser, and pen, and went to get books, scissors, glue, and a few other objects. 

She sat back in her chair and Lucifer stood, leaning on the table. She wondered if this was how the bad guys felt when they got interrogated.

"Alors," he said and picked up a book. "C'est un livre. Un livre," he repeated. When she just sat there, he waved the book and gestured towards her. "À toi. Un livre."

"Uhn leev-ra," she repeated.

He said it twice more until her pronunciation improved. He introduced the eraser and the pen in the same way.

"La gomme est sur le livre," he declared, placing one on top of the other with a dramatic flourish. Trixie obediently repeated, giggling a little. "Le stylo est sur la gomme," he balanced the pen longways on the eraser.

“Le steelo ay sir le gom.”

 _“La_ gomme. Le stylo est sur la gomme.” He lifted the pen, held it vertically, and balanced the eraser on its end. “Voilà ! Et maintenant ?”

“Huh?”

“Maintenant, la gomme est sur le stylo !” He dropped the eraser into his hand and put the pen on the book. “Et ça ?”

“Le stylo est sur le livre!”

“Très bien. Qu'est-ce que c'est ?” he said, holding up each item in turn and getting her to say them. They repeated the process with the rest of the list, and Trixie started repeating each phrase with more flare. She got carried away and put the book on the floor, and stepped on top of it.

“Trixie est sur le livre !”

Lucifer opened his mouth in feigned shock. “Ne reste pas sur le livre ! Donne-le-moi,” he said flapping his hand, and she understood enough to get down and give it to him. He tapped it on top of her head. “Le livre est sur le petit singe !”

She looked confused. “Kes-ca le petee sanj ?” she said haltingly.

“C’est toi,” he replied, and made a short monkey noise, and tapped her on the head again.

Trixie giggled and stood on her chair. “Le petit singe est sur la chaise !”

Lucifer, not to be outdone, stood on the table. “Le diable est sur la table !”

Trixie covered her mouth in surprise. “Le diable est sur mes devoirs !”

“Oh ! Que diable ! Pardon, mademoiselle.” He got down quickly, tidying the papers he’d kicked. “Well, I think we can safely kick French off the list. Shall we stop for a bite of lunch?”

They agreed to pause for sandwiches, and then Trixie persuaded Lucifer to bake a cake with her, but he said they should finish off her work while they let it cool. 

“So, what’s left?”

“English. We were doing poetry before school closed down. I think this is a love poem, but maybe your _immortal_ brain can make more sense of it than I can.” She handed him the printout.

“This is Shakespeare!”

“Yeah. It’s like it’s another language or something.”

“It’s still English, it’s just changed a bit over the years. This takes me back. Dear old Will.”

“Wait, you met him?”

“Briefly. One of my minions helped him out with Hamlet. Will gave them a signed copy of the script as a thank you, but I liked it so much I stole it. Needn’t have bothered, it became much more popular after that. It’s bloody everywhere now.”

“At least this one is short.”

Lucifer propped feet up on the table, and recited with barely a glance at the paper.

_"When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,  
I all alone beweep my outcast state,  
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,  
And look upon myself and curse my fate,  
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,  
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,  
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,  
With what I most enjoy contented least;  
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,  
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,  
(Like to the lark at break of day arising  
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;  
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings  
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.”_

“Wow. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Remember all those words? And make it sound like it makes sense?”

“Well, to answer your first question, it’s like learning a song. If you read or hear it often enough it just sinks in. As for second, it does make sense, it’s just there’s a few things you don’t know yet because you’re still small and incomplete. What do you think it means?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. But I think there’s a bunch of stuff about feeling miserable, but then it gets happy and lovey at the end.”

“A good summary.”

“What does bootless mean?”

“Useless. Without force. Like trying to kick someone when you’re not wearing your boots.”

“So he’s saying that Heaven doesn’t listen to his prayers?”

“Yes. He got that bit right.”

“So if Heaven doesn’t hear, why does he sing to Heaven at the end?”

“Because he’s gone daft from all that lovey-dovey stuff. He’d rather be in love than be a king in a palace. I mean, who’d choose that?”

“You did.”

“I was king of Hell, it’s hardly the same thing.”

“It kind of is though. You gave up all that power just to be with Mom.”

“I tried giving it up before I met her, it just didn’t stick until now.”

“You are staying for good this time, though right?”

“Barring any other celestial emergencies, yes.”

“And she does make you feel like singing?”

“I always feel like singing,” he said, but his eyes were shining and she knew it was true.

“I think that the person in the poem is lonely. Because he says that bit about friends.”

“Yes, I think he was quite lonely. And even the things that are supposed to cheer him up don’t seem to help. He feels lost, useless, like he’s not worth anything. Until he thinks about his love.”

“Why doesn’t he remember her from the beginning? If you’ve got love like that, you’d think about it all the time, wouldn’t you?”

“Who says it’s a ‘her?’ But I don’t know. Perhaps they’re separated. Perhaps he’s working hard to make a living for them both. Life isn’t always as straightforward as it is in the poems or the movies. That’s why we have them, to remind us to have hope. Hope is very important when you’re all alone. I used to think it was dangerous, I didn’t trust it. I still don’t. But it got me through the time I had to go away, so I’m taking a risk this time. Besides, I’ve never felt anything like the way I feel around your mother.”

“Don’t worry, Lucifer,” she said seriously. “Mom’s going to look after you. And so will I.”

“I’ll remember that. Now, haven’t you got some questions to answer or something?”

“Yes. On it.”

***

Trixie worked magic on Lucifer’s hair. There wasn’t much to work with, not like when Maze let her do it, but she was delighted at the way it started curling when she brushed it out. She managed to get about two dozen tiny butterfly clips into those locks, in assorted colours, so that they stuck up in the air in little tufts. Then she got out the glitter face paints and decorated his cheek with a rainbow. He nodded his approval at that part, but whined when she continued to add flowers and stars and spirals.

“Done!” she announced at last. “Are you sure you won’t let me take a picture?” 

“Absolutely not. There must be no record of this anywhere.”

“Except in my memory. Let me get a good look.” She examined her work this way and that. “I wish Mom could see this.”

“No chance.”

“Can you keep it on for a little bit though?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Half an hour.”

“Twenty.”

“Deal.”

***

Lucifer and Trixie were busy in the kitchen when Chloe arrived home. He came around to greet her as she took off her jacket. “Hello, love, how was work?”

“It’s like being back in uniform. Honestly, some people are ass-hats.” She leaned into him and sighed. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She looked up and smiled, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “What are you making?”

“Vegetable lasagne. I’ll need to pop out and get some groceries later. I’ve been teaching the urchin to cook, among other things.”

“Really? Hey monkey, how was your day?”

She wiped her hands on an apron that was slightly too big for her, and hugged her mother. “It was pretty cool, actually. Lucifer’s really smart. He knows so much stuff. Next time I get a history project, I’m totally gonna pick his brain.”

“Don’t tell me you got all that work done?” she said with a grin.

“Yep! And we even made a cake!”

“I thought we were out of eggs?”

“We are,” Lucifer said. “But this resourceful thing found a vegan recipe that turned out better than I expected.”

“It was so cool, Mom. We used vinegar and baking soda to make a chemical reaction that makes the bubbles that make it rise.”

“So you did science as well as all that. I have to say I’m impressed.”

“It’s early days,” Lucifer admitted. “I’m sure if this goes on much longer, we’ll be reduced to watching cartoons and playing video games.”

“Can you bring your games console over?” Trixie asked excitedly.

“I’ll pick it up when I get the groceries,” he promised.

“Aaaand there goes the work ethic,” Chloe said with a roll of her eyes. “Well, it was good while it lasted.”

“Don’t worry, I intend to utilise it as a form of bribery. She works much better when she has something to look forward to afterwards.”

“Okay, well, go get me all me all this fantastic homework, I wanna see what you’ve been doing.”

“You can even test me on my French!” Trixie called as she ran to collect the paper.

Chloe held Lucifer’s arm. “I do appreciate this, you know. You may not be able to come into work, but you’re still my partner, and it means a lot that you’re taking care of her.”

“Of course. I know you’ve placed a lot of trust in me, and it turns out I actually can be a responsible Devil after all.”

Chloe looked at him, and narrowed her eyes. “Hang on, is that glitter on your cheek? What have you two been up to?” she asked suspiciously.

“It’s nothing,” Trixie said, rushing back. “Just one of my art projects. Here, look at this.”

While Chloe was staring at the paper, Trixie caught Lucifer’s eye and winked at him. He smiled. Perhaps being a stay at home step-Devil might not be so bad after all. Just for a few weeks, anyway.

Couldn’t be worse than running Hell, could it?

**Author's Note:**

> (I know, technically they shouldn't be hugging Chloe when she comes home, but this is fanfic and I do what I want.)


End file.
